


Codename: Blackhawk

by ihaventsleptyetits4amoops



Series: Who Are These Weirdos Anyway? [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Autistic Character, Coulson Lives, No Phase 2 Compliance, Original Character(s), POV Second Person, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 00:32:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3875674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihaventsleptyetits4amoops/pseuds/ihaventsleptyetits4amoops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s some kind of super-soldier serum in the Black Widow’s veins they say, that it’s one of the reasons she’s survived what she has, and if that’s the case it’s in yours too. Your father, Hawkeye, well he’s just a stubborn son of a bitch and, yeah, you’ve got that as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Codename: Blackhawk

When your parents met, it was either a match made in Heaven or a match made in the deepest, darkest depths of Hell, depending on who you asked. It still is, depending on who you ask. They were either going to stab each other or screw each other and nobody knew which. It was the latter, obviously, or you wouldn’t exist and neither would Maya. There’s some kind of super-soldier serum in the Black Widow’s veins they say, that it’s one of the reasons she’s survived what she has, and if that’s the case it’s in yours too. Your father, Hawkeye, well he’s just a stubborn son of a bitch and, yeah, you’ve got that as well. Your parents are the best at what they do. They’re legends, their names strike fear into the hearts of many. And you? When you were born, everyone said you would be greater than both of them.

  
Everyone thinks that, including your parents, until you’re about three years old. You hadn’t spoken yet but they knew you weren’t deaf. Hell, you could follow simple enough instructions in about five languages by that point. Still, your parents worried, so they took you for testing anyway. You definitely weren’t deaf. In fact, some of the sounds upset you so much that you screamed and screamed and wouldn’t stop. You’d only let your father pick you up then, if anyone else tried it you screamed even louder and you almost bit Rumlow. He still holds a grudge. After that, people start noticing things. It’s your Uncle Phil who eventually suggests taking you to a child psychologist. Your parents agree and you’re formally diagnosed with autism six months later. Nobody seems to think you’ll ever amount to anything much after that. It’s amazing how much six letters can change people’s opinions so drastically.

  
Your parents never give up though, or Uncle Phil, Aunt Maria or Grandpa Fury (your father started that as a joke when you were born and Fury acts like it pisses him off but it doesn’t). No matter what anyone else says, they’re still convinced you’ll be something great. They never try to force it on you, though, they just refuse to give up on you like everybody else seems to have. In other words, they’re your family and also they’re generally good people who refuse to assume you’ll be incompetent because you’re not neurotypical. It’s nice not to be called a freak for a change.

  
This whole spying thing must be in your blood. You pick up languages quickly, even though you barely ever say a word. The doctors think that martial arts or gymnastics or something like that will help with your coordination. Your mother starts teaching you both and you take to them, and you’re good at them but archery will always be your favourite. That makes your father grin like a lunatic. He starts to teach you because he thinks you might find the repetition calming. He’s right. He’s the one that starts teaching you to sign as well. You think he appreciates the quiet sometimes, the hearing aids can’t be that comfortable. He doesn’t wear them in the house, more often than not. You all sign, so it’s not like it matters.

  
Of course, the Battle of New York happens when you’re four and suddenly there’s an influx of new people in your life. You like Bruce and Steve well enough but Thor’s a bit loud and Tony’s just terrifying. You get used to them eventually and when Bucky and Sam come along, they’re not so bad. You start school properly the next year though and that sucks. Everyone’s really loud and they play rough and tumble a lot. Your teachers keep trying to make you talk to them, like they’re convinced that this time will be different from the last time they tried it. It never works.

  
Over the next few years, not much else changes. Several people get married and a few children are born but, aside from the crying, it doesn’t really bother you all that much. Once they’re a bit older, the kids are a lot more fun but until then you’re content to ignore their existence, for the most part. Your teachers are still trying to get you to talk to them, like another year will make all the difference. Like one day you’ll just suddenly decide to be a normal child. If they actually expect that to happen, they’ll be waiting a long time. They’ll be waiting forever.

  
Seemingly out of nowhere, Tony, whom you’ve gotten used to by this point, picks up a teenager. Peter Parker’s sixteen and he’s Spider-Man. Nobody protests that he’s too young to be a superhero. They know there’s no point. He’s stubborn as all hell, is Peter, and he’d do it whether they helped him or not. It’s easier for everyone, and safer for him, if they just try to help him. Besides, he’s the same age as Katie and her friends, or thereabouts, and Johnny Storm, and several X-Men. He’s older than some, actually. You like him. He’s nice and he doesn’t mind explaining science things to you, even though you’re only six. He doesn’t mind that you don’t talk back either.

  
Your sister is born a year later. Maya. At first you hate her and you try to pretend she doesn’t exist. She’s loud and smelly and spews bodily fluids everywhere. It’s awful. 90% of your time is spent hiding under your bed with your hands pressed over your ears until one of your parents manages to make her be quiet. You do all your homework in the common areas to get away from the noise. It’s all really easy, your homework, or, at least, the concepts are. Sometimes, you just can’t seem to get the words right. Words are difficult for you and that’s probably always going to be the case. Peter helps you, if he can, and Kate tries but Peter’s better at it. Billy, one of Kate’s friends, is quite good too, when he’s around. He has younger siblings and it shows.

  
A few more children are born. They finally stop when you’re nine, with Sarah Rogers bringing the total number of Avengers’ children to 16 (Plus Rhodey’s daughter, who, according to the public, doesn’t count. She totally counts.). The next oldest kids turn five and start school. You’re in the fourth grade by then. Your schoolwork is still painfully easy, for the most part, and you’re bored and frustrated in equal measure. Tony sympathises but neither of your parents really know what to do, given that neither of them ever had a normal education. They speak to your teachers, who refuse to believe that this could be true. The work can’t be too easy for you because you don’t talk and are therefore incapable of understanding anything else. Right.

  
Uncle Phil comes up with a solution eventually and Tony is sore that he didn’t think of it first. You get signed up for an online degree course, chemistry this time, and it takes you a couple of years to complete it. It’s hard and you’re only ten but it’s better than being bored out of your mind. You’ve just turned twelve when you finish it and you start another one. Computer science only takes you a year and a half. You finish it just in time to start high school.

  
High school is even less fun. You now have a new sympathy for Peter and all the complaining he did when he was still in high school. Which was ten years ago, but still. He’s a teacher now, Peter, with a degree in biophysics. He’s your physics teacher actually, which is nice since he’s known you since you were six and he knows what you know and that half the syllabus is ridiculously easy. You haven’t done a physics degree yet but Rowena just started hers and she says it’s interesting. You just started math. It’s fun, but it takes longer than the others did.

  
The math degree takes you the entirety of your high school ‘career’ (That’s what the teachers call it. You think they’re ridiculous.) because you actually have to put some actual effort into schoolwork now, which is a nice change. English in particular is difficult. So much analysis of literature. Why do they even care? The author used words. The curtains were blue. You struggle to see exactly how the fact he has blue curtains means that he’s depressed but you go along with it because arguing requires words and isn’t worth the effort. Whatever. High school requires actual effort and it sucks and there’s just so many people and so much noise. It’s god-awful.

  
You graduate. You graduate with all the usual ceremony and you sit with the rest of your class on a sunny day in June, listening to a bunch of people talk and feeling kind of like you’re baking to death. At least you weren’t late, like some others you could mention. (Tony tells that story all the time and Peter glares every time he brings it up.) Nope, you stand and you try to listen, you really do, but there’s just too many words and you’re lost after five minutes. Something about moving on to the next stage in life maybe? You don’t know. When they call your name, you go up, collect your rolled up piece of paper and shake the principal’s hand. It’s not the most comfortable of experiences you’ve ever had, but it could have been much worse.

  
After that, there’s a lot of cheering and throwing of hats and several photographs that your parents insist on. You hate having photos taken and normally you’d put up a bigger fight about it but you just graduated high school and neither them ever did and they’re both really excited so you decide to humour them, just this once. Your mother cries and your father grins so widely it looks like his face could break in half. Maya, now eleven, just looks kind of bored but poses with you readily enough. You can’t wait for this to be over so you can get out of this stupid robe and away from the infernal sunlight. (Tony likes to joke that you’re a vampire. You’re not, but sometimes you might as well be.)

  
It’s about a week into your summer break when it hits you. You’re going to college. In Seattle. Washington. Also known as practically the other side of the continental US.

What the hell possessed you to do that? You are 18 years old. You can barely tie your own shoelaces, don’t talk to strangers and sometimes forget to look both ways (or look at all) before you cross roads. You can cook for yourself, sure, assuming you remember to eat, which you probably won’t. You can call or skype and they’ve promised to visit and you can come home in the holidays but none of that changes the fact that _you’re moving to Seattle in August_. Your dad finds you hiding in the bottom of your wardrobe, having a panic attack.

He’s incredibly patient about talking you down from it, and, in August, you move to Seattle.

It’s not as bad as you thought, but it takes some getting used to. Your roommate is a bit annoying, not that you’d expected otherwise, but you feel no overwhelming urge to punch them, so it’s not that bad. Your parents text you to remind you to eat, to shower, to go outside. They text you to make sure you’re okay. They text to tell you that they’re okay. They text you a lot, actually. It helps. You get Skype calls at 3am (which is 6am back home) from Will, asking you to help with his math homework because his brother will tease him for it and you won’t. It’s the same as when he used to come into your room in the early morning and ask you, except even earlier. It doesn’t matter, you’ve never been big on sleep anyway.

This fact is something your roommate seems to resent, that you don’t seem to sleep. You never quite figure out why, it’s not like you keep him awake, or wake him up when he’s sleeping. This is something he has, in fact, done to you several times by stumbling, drunk, into the room in the small hours on the fairly rare occasion that you are actually sleeping. He also sings obnoxiously while he’s in the shower and locks you out of the room to have sex with his girlfriend. On second thoughts, maybe the roommate is more than a bit annoying. Whatever. It’s only four years, you can deal.

While you’re away, it’s decided that, since you’re 18 and therefore no longer in high school, you can be an Avenger, you know, if you want. Only during the holidays, mind, there’s still your education to think about. You figure “why the hell not?” and agree. It’s not like you haven’t been working for SHIELD (unofficially, of course) for years anyway. If the press (or anyone else for that matter) notices the extra archer then they don’t mention it, thank heaven for small mercies.

You only get called out that first time during winter break, thankfully, so you get to spend the rest of the three weeks catching up to what everyone forgot to tell you while you were gone. Freya and Rowena just started high school themselves and take great delight in complaining about it, loudly and at great length. It sounds like several people have tried to make friends with the pair, or, more specifically, Rowena, because of their names. The girls had taken great delight in driving off all comers with a combination of biting wit (which many did not expect from Thor’s daughter, which was their problem) and outright rudeness and were now generally considered to be a no-go zone. Still, that shouldn’t have happened at all. Not for the first time, you’re glad your parents are less well known. Not only did you never have to deal with that particular high school evil (though the fact that you’re functionally mute might have helped) you can leave the Tower without much hassle. (Okay, you can’t, but they usually stop following you by the end of the street.)

You go back to college in January and it’s pretty much the same as it was before Christmas. The physics is still interesting. The roommate is still an asshole. The Earth still orbits the Sun. Life goes on. It occurs to you that you don’t actually remember your roommates’ name and have been referring to him as ‘The Roommate’ (or ‘Asshole Roommate’ if you’re feeling particularly uncharitable, which is often) for the last four months. Whoops. Oh well. It’s not as though you’re friends.

The summer is eventful. After six call outs, three broken bones, two concussions, a near miss with the Hulk (Bruce was very apologetic afterwards) and an unseasonal outbreak of the flu that took out three quarters of the Tower’s occupants, you’re almost happy to go back to college. Almost. Seattle is still a long way away and your roommate is still (probably) an asshole. These things must not be forgotten.

You leave about a week before term starts. Jamie and Oliver are about to start high school. They’re both nervous and both trying to cover it up, Oliver by being a cocky asshole (like usual, only worse) and James by simply pretending that nothing is wrong. It’s still kind of obvious to just about everyone but they’re trying so hard that nobody mentions it, just out of politeness. You set yourself a reminder to text and ask how it went. You get treated to a glorious five-page rant from James, using language that would have him filling the swear jar for the rest of his life if his father found out, the gist of which is “high school sucks and people are assholes.” You sympathise. From Oliver, you get “Fine” and then “Yes” when you ask if he’s sure about that. You reply with “If you say so.” He calls five minutes later.

The kid looks like shit, there’s no other way to describe it. He’s obviously in pain and looks kind of like he’s about to throw up. Since he called you, you wait for him to say something. He doesn’t. He starts signing instead and you realise what the problem might be. “How the hell did you cope?” he asks and, if signs could be whiny, his would be. “They’re so damn loud all the time, they never stop.” He drops his head onto his arms, hands still hovering in front of the screen, and moans slightly pathetically for a minute before looking back up. “I feel like I’m about to be sick.” You know that feeling well. There are very few quiet places at Midtown, which was a pain the ass when you were there, but you know all of them. You tell him about them, including the bathroom in the science block that nobody ever uses and you tell him to talk to Peter, who let you hide in the staff room if it got bad. You also tell him to talk to his dad which he looks less than thrilled about but agrees to. He looks a little better when the call ends but you still wish you weren’t two and a half thousand miles away.

Asshole Roommate is, unsurprisingly, still an asshole after the next winter break and the next summer. You’d probably worry about him (or at least the possibly of a Skrull invasion) if he wasn’t at this point. The first day of junior year he locks you out of the room to have sex with his girlfriend. Again. You sigh and spend the next several hours in the library. You try to ignore the smell when you go back to the room and succeed, just about. It seems that two years of practice finally paid off.

The next winter break is eventful, to say the least. Doombots attack Manhattan twice (why are the Fantastic Four always conveniently absent when these things happen?), a mutant gorilla attacks New Jersey (Tony makes enough King Kong jokes that Bucky punches him) and somebody decides it’s a cool idea to animate all the mannequins at Macy’s (why?). There’s four feet of snow on the ground outside but the press are still hanging around because of something-or-other. You don’t go outside unless it’s absolutely necessary, though that’s pretty much normal for you. Just before you leave, Freya’s 18th birthday party ends in broken bones all round when someone manages to _break into the Tower_ (JARVIS is tampered with, Tony is less than thrilled). All in all, not such a great holiday.

As you go into senior year, your sister starts high school. And she takes to it immediately. So unfair. Matt has a few more problems, on account of looking so much like his father, but solves them all quite quickly by punching a senior in the face. Nobody messes with him after that, funnily enough. Your senior year passes surprisingly quickly. Your final set of finals arrives and you spend another week wanting to die. Just like every previous year. Asshole Roommate ups his assholery to cope with the stress. Just like every previous year. And then finally it’s all over.

You suffer through another graduation ceremony and more photographs. You collect your fourth degree. You leave Seattle and go back to New York (at last). Back in your own room, you bask in the glory of no longer having to deal with Asshole Roommate (even after four years, you didn't learn his name), or, at least, you do until the fire alarm goes off again and you have to get out of bed.

After Freya and Rowena’s high school graduation (which was just as boring as yours), everyone returns to the Tower. There's a lot of loud music and laughing and, yes, some shouting, but they wouldn't be James and Oliver if they weren't trying to kill each other (it's the sexual tension and everyone can see it, it seems, except them). You go sit outside to take a break for a couple of minutes. It's nice out there. You can see across all of New York. It's pretty. The sun's setting. You don't realise she's there until she sits beside you. (Some spy you are.)

She twists her hands in her lap as she sits and you've taken part in enough interrogations to recognise the signs of nervousness when you see them. It's a strange sight to see, Rowena Stark, nervous, but here it is. “So,” she says, “Do you maybe wanna go out some time?” You turn to look at her and raise an eyebrow, confused. You go out together all the time. She seems to realise this, as she flounders for a second before clarifying, “You know, like a date?” You think for a second before replying.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

She kisses you then, as the sun sets. Nothing serious, just a peck on the lips (she might be like her father but she’s not like that and even if she was it would be her choice and it wouldn’t matter). Then, she takes your hand and leads you back inside. You let her. You’re pretty sure you’d let her do almost anything at this point (unless it was stupid or dangerous). She’s still holding your hand when you go back inside and she doesn’t let go. Pepper and your parents smile when they see you both and Tony gives you a vaguely approving sort of nod, which is a little bit weird and mildly terrifying. Then, he casts a significant look and James and Oliver, as if mentally willing them to follow suit. (Seriously, how has the tension not killed anyone yet?) Instead, they start to bicker and he rolls his eyes. Much more like the Tony you know. (You don’t find out ‘til later that he’s the one that encouraged her to ask you out, rather than just thinking about it.)

The summer after that is quiet, but pleasant. You get called out a few times, mostly to Doombots or AIM being dicks, but that was expected (they still haven’t noticed). You go out with Rowena (your girlfriend and, boy, does that sound weird) and become even more well-versed in the art of sneaking out of the Tower without the assembled masses noticing. Tanya visits from Florida so you go out with her and the others a couple of times. You get arrested one of those times. (Whoops.) Rhodey is, understandably, less than thrilled but not exactly surprised. Tanya’s in her last year at the University of Florida, in the ROTC program. She’s following her father into the Air Force, despite her mother’s (half-hearted at best) protests, just like everyone knew she would. It’s what she’s always wanted to do and you’re glad she’s managed it.

Rowena and Freya go to college in September, one to Caltech and the other to Columbia. Since you don’t have to go to school, you can visit Ro more often, assuming you’re in the country. You’ve become an official agent of SHIELD now, even though everyone knows you’ve actually been working for them for years. They pay you now, which is nice, and it comes with the added bonus of not being in high school, which, even after four years, is pretty great. The travel opportunities, also kind of awesome (16 countries in two years). It’s not without risks though, which is something you’ve always known but are now reminded of frequently and painfully.

Over the course of two years, you manage to receive four broken bones, three concussions, a sprained wrist, a dislocated shoulder and more cuts and bruises than you can shake a stick at. You also get shot, and stabbed twice, not to mention the incident with the something-induced vertigo that left you feeling seasick on flat ground for a week. It sounds worse than it is, but somewhere along the line someone suggests that medical training might be a good idea. Being a qualified EMT is definitely useful, if only because you use it as an excuse to avoid Medical even more than you used to. They have no complaints about that. (They don’t like you, or your father, very much. You’re “difficult”.)

Freya and Rowena join the team like you did. They have the same restrictions as you did as well, even though Freya lives at home still, and, though Freya is less than happy about it, Rowena's relieved. California is a long way away. After their first call out there is media uproar. “What a way to pass the torch!” says one headline. “Are the Avengers retiring?” asks another. Several more bemoan the youth and supposed irresponsibility of these “Next Avengers”. (Of course, now they’ve finally noticed.) There’s a small army of reporters camped outside the Tower constantly, taking photographs of whoever dares to leave. Rowena goes back to California early to get away and you consider going with her but Fury sends you to Paraguay instead. Freya has no such luck.

Paraguay is a disaster. Or that’s what everyone says. You’re alive (barely) and the job’s done but you get yourself half blown to hell trying to save a bus full of kids. (You succeeded, you tell your father, signing sloppily through three broken fingers. He scowls, but there’s pride in his voice when he scolds you for trying to sit up.) You’ll recover but you’ll be feeling this one for a while.

You’re fully healed and Coulson is considering letting you out of his sight ( _considering_ ) by the next graduation. The terrible twosome get their shit together at last, as Sarah, Matt and Will find out. Rather graphically, if the sounds of disgust and outrage are anything to go by. (Bucky’s response: “Finally.”) Everyone celebrates this development. The crushing sexual tension is now gone. Hallelujah. It’s a wonder it didn’t suffocate anyone. They’re even going to the same college. Seriously, they’re adorable, it’s disgusting.

Coulson finally decides to let you out of his sight sometime in October. Russia is very cold at this time of year. Seriously. You figure this is probably some sort of punishment for scaring the shit out of him but it’s such a relief to get out of the Tower that you don’t even mind.

Rowena skypes often and complains about her roommate frequently. Sometimes, the boys are with her, since they’re at Stanford (which is still over 300 miles away but that’s better than almost 3000). Life continues in that easy routine. Skype calls with your girlfriend (that surprises you every time you say it) when you’re in the country, SHIELD assignments that are usually the reason you’re not in the country. You manage to surprise her twice (her roommate hates you, the feeling is decidedly mutual).

Abbie and Grace had the least amount of trouble with high school, really. Or, Abbie did. She’s easy to like. Grace is just quiet and fades into the background unless someone pays attention. It helps that any assholes are easily scared off by the fact she could smash them if they piss her off. She’s face blind, which made classes interesting, but she’s quiet, intelligent and, frankly, terrifying when she’s of a mind to be, even without hulking out. It’s the quiet ones you want to watch out for, people say. You’ve proved that enough times to enough people to know that it’s true. They’re graduating now and Tony likes to joke that they’ve completed a full set. Every Avenger has a kid who’s graduated high school. They can retire now, he says. (They can’t, you’re the only one who’s out of college.) He’s kidding, probably. Either way, the Avengers aren’t retiring yet. In fact, they get called out multiple times over the course of the summer. (Doombots again. Where are the Fantastic Four when you need them?) There’s a bit of a fuss about Captain America’s son but they pipe down eventually, like they always do. They’ll be back next time someone does something they deem interesting. (Hopefully that someone won’t be you. Last time it was? Well… You don’t talk about it.)

Everyone leaves for college again, Abbie to Seattle for political science and Grace to MIT to pursue a PhD in nuclear physics. To join the one she already has in Molecular Biology. She went for depth of knowledge, rather than breadth, and by the time she’s 22 she’ll have two PhDs. (You always said she was terrifying. And terrifyingly intelligent.)

A senior now, and practically Queen of the school (damn her), Maya has decided she wants to study journalism. She’ll be good at it. Corey wants to be a doctor. He’ll be good at that. You complete assignments for SHIELD (and you only come back battered sometimes) and occasionally design things for Stark Industries. It’s quite nice to put the degrees you’ve collected to use. All in all, it’s not too bad.

You are Aleksei Phillip Barton, aged 24, and, for the moment, life is good.


End file.
